


Alien Instinct

by Quiet_Shadow



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: AU, Death, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, Infanticide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elita One's transformation into Blackarachnia came with hated alien instincts, and something else she hopes nobody ever learn about. Especially not Optimus or Sentinel...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alien Instinct

**Author's Note:**

> An old fic, started in 2008 and that I had forgotten about. I found it back and decided to finish it.  
> Sorry, not beta'ed, so there'll probably be mistakes here and there.  
> Hope you'll like anyway!

It was always instinct.

Always.

Instinct given to her by her biological half. Disgusting but helpful instinct, which had maintened her alive so far.

Instinct had guided her on her first hunt for food. Instinct had told her how to poison her prey, rending the organic beast helpless as she cut through him, devoring his body slowly. By no mean she had liked that, not this time nor the many, many times she had to do that again, but even if her body still could accept energon as a suitable nutriment, her alien body desired something else, something she soon found out was called ‘meat’.

And energon wasn’t found in spade on the rock she had been abandoned on; the few cubes which hadn’t exploded wouldn’t last long, so she had to... adapt to the circumstances.

Instinct guided her as she made her first webs, trapping other preys, providing her with more ‘food’ and providing her with a safe place from the predators. With distress, she had discovered other potential harmful species on the planet, and she had come to, if not accept, tolerate the advantage given to her by her arachnid body. Although those would-be predators didn’t bother her so much, really. In a way, she found them eerily entertaining, especially when they tried to escape her when she was on the move. One way or another, she had become the biggest predator on this hopeless rock.

She could take anyone on... asides from the spiders, of course. Damn things were always running around and approched her webs far too closely for her comfort, but usually they left her alone since her mutation, as if they recognized her as one of them.

That thought had given her chills and bad memory purges for cycles.

She wasn’t like them!

In revenge, she ended killing a dozen and hanging their bodies around her current web, macabre trophies she watched with an half smile and imagining two traitorous Autobots who had let her down here dangling from the silk cables instead.

Now, wouldn’t that be glorious?

And she would laugh madly as she imagined their faces. Then she would shake her head in self-hatred because no matter what, they had been her friends and somehow, she didn’t totally hate them. Yet.

But they had abandoned her. They had given up on her and left, letting her on this hellish planet. They would be punished for what they did!

She would make sure of that. Somehow. Whenever she managed to leave this stupid rock.

_-_-_

Time passed.

She had started to get used to her new body, not without a few problems along the way of course, to the point she barely noticed the difference with the old one. Of course it was a lie; nothing could be more different than her pretty, fully mechanic yellow frame. But to pretend the contrary was a necessary lie to keep her sane.

She knew she wasn’t exactly Elita One anymore. She would need a new name to go with what she imagined was a completely different face. So far she hadn’t managed to see the damage, having been deprived of a mirror or any reflecting surface.

She was adapting. She wasn’t freaking out anymore. Or at least, not too much.

And then one day, something happened. Something... gross. As she had lain down, feeling nervous, in pain and feverish, adorned by silky and sticky thread of organic webs, she had started to expulse some strange parasites from her body. They HAD to be parasites, because there was no way they could be part of her body at some point! One way or another, she had caught a strange organic disease. The unwelcomed parasites were contained in a semi-translucide round shell. They were too many to count. They were... aliens.

And she didn’t – couldn’t – understand where they came from.

It was so wrong; she had expulsed them from her body with pain, one by one, for cycles. It had hurt more than anything, except perhaps her transformation into the monster she had become.

To this day, she can still hear her own cries, bordering on madness, as she drops into recharge and can’t help but shudder. To this day, what she did in the aftermath made her wince...

_-_-_

More time passed.

Decepticons took her with them. Elita One didn’t exist anymore. She was BlackArachnia. The freak. The ‘Con. She didn’t care anymore. She wasn’t alone anymore, and she was free. Somewhat. A very bitter freedom. She held no illusions about returning to Cybertron. Primus only knew what would happen to her if she set a foot again on her home planet in her state.

She would end up... dead or worse, she reasoned. She had never liked scientists, even before she became a freak. She had managed to visit the labs, once, with other Cadets. The way some of them used to stare at whatever they were experimenting on... Less she thought about it, the better she felt.  
No. Cybertron was out of the question. Better to stick with the ‘Cons for now. At least, they accepted her – not for what she was, but for the asset she could someday become. BlackArachnia was strong, and trained, and deadly. She could hold her own in a fight and be victorious. The rest didn’t matter much to the ‘Con. So long she was useful and could keep her own, she had nothing to fear from them.

Still, she longed to be a true femme again. The good thing with the Decepticons was, they couldn’t care less if she tortured mechs in incredibly risked and painful experiments in her desperate search of a cure to her affliction. It would take time; she had realized it very early on. But someday, she would find a way to get rid of her organic part and Elita One would rise again. A very different Elita, but a monster no longer.

Or at least...one who was physically not a monster.

Because if she could shrug off or reason about the necessity of what she was doing in her pursuit of her cure, there was a thing she couldn’t forget about...

The parasites.

What happened on the rock she lived on with the spider continued to torment her. How could she be sure it wouldn’t happen again?

She still didn’t know what had happened. Was it a virus? A strange organic disease? Or... something else entirely?

_-_-_

She wouldn’t learn before long, long after having left that hated planet and her monsters. She wouldn’t learn and discover what exactly had happen before she set a foot on a backwater planet named Earth, populated by organics beings sharing some similarities with Cybertronian.

Weird things, those organics. They were sentient, for one. And despite their very short lifespan, they were very curious about, well, everything. Some of them devoted their whole life to the studies of lesser, dumb life forms. Some of those life forms, she was shaken when she browsed over the information she had gathered about the planet, were strangely similar to the ones on Archa 7, in a much smaller form.

Still, if they resembled each other so much, perhaps the discoveries humans had made could also apply to those monsters?

If so, she would finally know...

_-_-_

Perhaps it would have been better if she had never learned.

Still, she did her researches. And discovered what she sought.

And she would think back to an almost forgotten time, where everything was so simple, so black and white, without the ever growing grey area between. A time where Autobots were good, Decepticons were bad, she would become one day a member of the Elite Guard and her life would be wonderful forever.

She would remember of two smiling faces. She would think of a large berth in the middle of the night, a floor or a wall against her back, and large, powerful bodies leaning against her, pinning her down gently.

Memories of soft kisses and promises of friendship, companionship and eternal love whispered at each others would came back, and she would see herself again between the two mechs of her life, her two friends, strong and arrogant but often well-meaning Sentinel and gentle, caring and hero-worshipping Optimus.

Yes, she would discover Earth scientists, and everything humans had ever discovered about spiders. Granted, she’s not one exactly, but her organic part seemed to follow the same habits.

_-_-_

Oh, Primus...

'Female spider’s reproductive tracts vary from simple tubes to systems that include seminal receptacles in which females store sperm and release it when they are ready.'

And she would forever wonder which one of the two she would kill one day for having do that to her. Somewhere along the lines, when distrust and hatred grew stronger than ever, she decided she would kill them both no matter what.

Cybertronians don’t produce that thing humans call sperm, which grand females of differents species to carry their youngs. Cybertronians just share spark energy and sometimes fluids like coolants and lubricants and energon when they are facing emergencies. Spark energy takes some time before totally disappearing from a mech – or a femme – body.

They had interfaced, the three of them, just before going on this accursed planet... They had plugged into her, exchanging datas. They had shared their sparks and codes, with whole layers of protections to avoid getting bonded... or sparked, though she was least at risk than her two friends. Ignited newsparks preferred to nestle into large frames, where they could get more space to grow and more energy to spare.

It shouldn’t have had consequences.

It had.

_-_-_

Interface... and female reproductive tracts.

It makes her hysterical. 

It’s so unbelievable, so unprobable, so... impossible that perhaps she’s mistaken even today. By no way residual spark energy could have been transformed into sperm by her strange mutation. Sperm she would have unintentionnaly carried along, until her body started to expulse the parasites.

No, not parasites, she amends herself. Eggs. She had laid eggs.

Spiders’ eggs were supposed to contain their sparkling – or whatever was the word used by those organics.

And Blackarachnia starts to smile, then giggles madly, then errupts in a full, demented laugh, unable to stop herself. Without even knowing what she did, she had effectively destroyed – slaughered – her own youngs until no one was left. She had destroyed them without a care, too scared of what had just happened to take the time to think, to understand what had just happened.

All she saw was something that caused her pain and had no reason to exist.

She had been a mother...

When she realizes it, the laugh fades, she starts sobbing, then grows quiet and silent, as she contemplats what it mean. Perhaps it was better for everyone they were dead. She didn’t have to worry about them anymore. Or worry about what she would have done with them.

Born freaks, there was no way – or perhaps there was... – they could have been turned into regular Cybertronians. They would just had a life of misery in front of them. Killing them before they were ever born... She might have done them a mercy without even knowing it.

It certainly was better than die under surgical instruments in Autobots’ hands, or on a battlefield as cannon fodder for the Decepticons.

As she realized it, her smile turned bitter. She would never tell anyone what happened. Never.

Her freakish, dead mutant sparklings would ever be her little secret...


End file.
